g so soon to Saratoga and
Newport, which Katy had so much wished to visit, but from which she now
shrank, especially after she knew that Mrs. Cameron and Juno were to be
of the party, and probably Sybil Grandon. Katy did not dislike the
latter, but she was never quite easy in her presence, and was conscious
of appearing to disadvantage whenever they were together, while she
could not deny to herself that since Sybil's return Wilford had not been
quite the same as before. In company he was more attentive than ever,
but at home he was sometimes moody and silent, while Katy strove in vain
to ascertain the cause.

They were not as happy in the new home as she had expected to be, but
the fault did not lie with Katy. She performed well her part, and more,
taking upon her young shoulders the whole of the burden which her
husband should have helped her bear. Housekeeping far more than boarding
brings out a husband's nature, for whereas in the latter case one
rightfully demands the services for which he pays, in the former he is
sometimes expected to do and think, and even wait upon himself. But this
was not Wilford's nature. The easy, indolent life he had led so long as
a petted son of a partial mother unfitted him for care, and he was as
much a boarder in his own home as he had ever been in the hotels in
Paris, thoughtlessly requiring of Katy more than he should have
required, so that Bell was not far from right when in her journal she
described her sister-in-law as "a little servant whose feet were never
supposed to be tired, and whose wishes were never consulted." It is true
Bell had put it rather strongly, but the spirit of what she said was
right, Wilford seldom considering Katy, or allowing her wishes to
interfere with his own plans, while accustomed to every possible
attention from his mother, he exacted the same from his wife, whose life
was not one of unmixed happiness, notwithstanding that every letter home
bore assurance to the contrary.

CHAPTER XVIII.

MARIAN HAZELTON.

The last days of June had come, and Wilford was beginning to make
arrangements for removing Katy from the city before the warmer weather.
To this he had been urged by Mark Ray's remarking that Katy was not
looking as well as when he first saw her, one year ago, "She had grown
thin and pale," he said. "Had Wilford remarked it?"

Wilford had not. She complained much of headache; but that was only
natural. Still he wrote to the Mountain H